Chapter 635

The ban on plunder and the emancipation of slaves were things I had to endure significant backlash for. After all, it was an order that touched the very foundation of the grassland culture.

It wasn’t a complete ban, but rather redirecting the targets from the Westerners to our own kin beyond the Barun River. However, convincing the warriors not to attack the Westerners was no easy task.

“Why should we do that?”

Even Glar, my close aide, couldn’t understand why we had to leave the Westerners alone.

“To conquer the Great Plains. If we attack the Westerners, they’ll send their armies after us. Do you think we can advance eastward while being hindered by them?”

“Even if we leave the Westerners alone, there’s no guarantee they’ll stay quiet.”

Glar’s concern was reasonable. War isn’t like a game of chess. Just because we don’t attack doesn’t mean the enemy won’t come at us.

Ai-mel-ra argued that after the annihilation of the subjugation force and the liberation of Western slaves, it was clear that Ai-shan was different from the other minor tribes, and that even Ludwig would stop his pointless attacks. But…

I didn’t know enough about him to be sure.

“Well… that’s something we’ll have to wait and see. At least it’s worth a try.”

Still, I hoped her assurance would turn out to be true. For both her and me, that would be the best outcome.

“If the Khan says so…”

In the end, Glar bowed his head and accepted my order. It wasn’t that he agreed with the optimistic view that the Westerners wouldn’t attack, but rather that he respected my authority and stopped opposing me.

Convincing the other warriors was dozens of times more difficult.

—

“Everyone’s glaring at me like they want to kill me.”

In the bedroom of the Gold Flower Palace, Ai-mel-ra sat slanted on the bed, covering herself with a blanket and forcing a bitter smile.

“It’s inevitable. To the warriors, you’re a Westerner who’s bewitched the Khan and made the warriors weak. But since I’ve taken you as my concubine, they won’t go beyond glaring at you.”

“The foreign woman who bewitched the king… To think the heir of the Median family would be treated as a ‘Sorcière’ (witch). What a funny story.”

Seemingly amused by being ostracized by the warriors, Ai-mel-ra bent slightly and giggled. Her sweat-drenched white back. The scent of marigolds brushed my nose.

“Seu-sia? What does that mean?”

“Hmm… I’m not sure what it’s called here. It refers to an evil woman who uses curses, fire, and lightning to kill and torment countless people.”

“A cursed sorceress, then. We don’t particularly distinguish between men and women.”

I lightly touched the golden hair sprawled on the bed as I answered.

Golden hair that seemed to melt the sunlight of the dawn sky. It was always fascinating to me. Golden hair was common among Western slaves, but such vibrant hair was rare.

– Rustle.

The scent of marigolds grew stronger. What should I say? It was a scent that brought peace to my heart, like waking up from a deep sleep.

Perhaps that’s why I added words I didn’t need to say.

“…I’m not treating you as a cursed sorceress. If that were the case, petitions to execute you would have poured in immediately. They’re just dissatisfied with the situation where they can’t fight freely. So… there shouldn’t be any danger to you.”

“……”

Ai-mel-ra stared at me with wide eyes for a while, then—

“Pfft.”

She smiled softly, her eyes curving gently.

—

From that day on, we talked a lot over the next few months.

She told me about the surprisingly grand imperial capital and the shining white Imperial Palace, and I replied that Ordos would one day prosper like that.

On another day, she told me about the first emperor worshipped by the Empire and the twelve War Chiefs. She claimed to be a descendant of one of them.

Her ancestor was a legendary warrior who couldn’t be harmed by any weapon in this world and could cut through anything…

“There’s probably some exaggeration. Heroic tales are usually like that, right?”

She didn’t seem to fully believe it herself.

“Interesting story. What would happen if that warrior tried to cut his own arm with his sword?”

“…Good question.”

Though it was a joke, I found a clue in that day’s conversation to become stronger than I already was.

An invincible body that couldn’t be harmed by anything. That was the form of strength I should pursue. Thanks to the Blessing of Divine Blood, my strength and speed were already sufficient.

—

Two years later, Ai-mel-ra gave birth to a child. A black-haired daughter with sharp eyes like mine and blue eyes like hers.

Two years ago, I might have been disappointed it wasn’t a son. At that time, what I wanted was a son who inherited my talent—the blood of the wolf—and added Ai-mel-ra’s talent to it.

But now, it didn’t matter.

Yes. Whether it’s a son or a daughter, what does it matter?

Whether they inherit the wolf’s blood or not, what does it matter?

It was all irrelevant.

Conquering the Great Plains was something I could do with my own strength, and for my successor, I could choose the more suitable son between Targien and Sahallyeon.

Ai-mel-ra named the child Hersela Ela… Hersela. It meant “Goddess of Dew,” she said.

I changed the child’s name to a Ka`har-style name using words from the Ka`har language that sounded similar. I didn’t tell Ai-mel-ra the meaning of the word, though.

Ha-shal-leur.

I wondered if it was okay to use a word that meant “to kill, to make cry, to shed tears” as my daughter’s name, but there was no better name for the warriors to accept.

In the same year, my fourth wife, Da-ha-mei, also gave birth to a son. I named him Amin. Da-ha-mei, satisfied with having a son, smiled triumphantly as she held Amin in her arms.

She must have been pleased that while Ai-mel-ra had a daughter, she had a son.

Da-ha-mei, originally the third wife, had been pushed to fourth after Ai-mel-ra, who became pregnant first, was recognized as a wife. Since then, she had harbored a competitive, almost hateful, attitude toward Ai-mel-ra.

—

Ha-shal-leur grew up smoothly.

She showed no signs of inheriting the wolf’s blood and had no interest in the path of a warrior, but she excelled in horsemanship and archery.

Ai-mel-ra said she had talent in swordsmanship too, but she showed no interest, so she only taught her basic self-defense level swordsmanship.

At the time, I was too busy with the eastern expedition to spend much time with her and Ha-shal-leur. For three years.

And then, in the early winter, ten years after meeting Ai-mel-ra, when Ha-shal-leur was eight years old—

Ludwig attacked Ai-shan.

Taking advantage of the main force I commanded being away on the eastern expedition.

Ten years had passed since we stopped attacking the Westerners and being attacked by them, so we had inwardly relaxed.

We thought the Empire wouldn’t invade. We thought Ludwig wouldn’t attempt a pointless war.

We were wrong.

Ludwig didn’t want peace, nor had he lowered his guard against Ka`har. He had simply been waiting.

Waiting until he had enough strength to attack Ai-shan. For a full ten years.

Later, I learned that among the Empire’s people we pursued and killed during the few days after capturing Ai-mel-ra and her escape attempt, there had been Ludwig’s son.

It was something neither I nor Ai-mel-ra knew, but should have known. Before things got this tangled.

—

Upon hearing the news of the Empire’s attack, I hurriedly returned and barely managed to defend Ordos, which was on the verge of falling, and repelled the Imperial Army, driving them back beyond the barrier.

However, the damage we suffered from that one invasion was enormous. Countless soldiers and warriors lost their lives, and even more than five Paladins fell. It was an unprecedented tragedy that someone had to take responsibility for.

And… all the warriors of Ai-shan placed that responsibility on Ai-mel-ra’s shoulders. I couldn’t fully protect her. If I did, Ai-shan might have split into five or six smaller tribes.

Instead of executing her or returning her to slavery, I had to demote her from the Khan’s wife to a concubine and keep her at a distance as much as possible.

It was the advice of Biasiren and Meiharin.

The more I defended her, the more the warriors’ hostility toward Ai-mel-ra would grow. They might even attempt assassination the moment I was away.

It was a reasonable assumption, and Ai-mel-ra, sighing as if she were about to collapse, agreed.

“…It can’t be helped. Since Ludwig made that choice… if you try to protect me, even Ha-shal-leur might be in danger.”

Indeed, when I distanced myself from her and started treating the Westerners as enemies again, the warriors seemed satisfied enough not to mention Ai-mel-ra’s name.

For a year.

The following year, my marigold withered.

It was a curse killing.